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ELIZABETH-5TUARTPHELP5WARD 
•HERBERTD-WARD- 


THE  LIBRARY 
OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


A   LOST   HERO 


A  LOST  HERO. 


A   LOST   HERO 


BY 

ELIZABETH    STUART    PHELPS    WARD 

AND 

HERBERT   D.    WARD 


ILLUSTRATED   BY  FRANK   T.   MERRILL 


BOSTON 

ROBERTS    BROTHERS 
1893 


Copyright,  1891, 
BY  ROBERTS  BROTHERS. 


IBmbfrattg  $rtss: 
JOHN  WILSON  AND  SON,  CAMBRIDGE,  U.S.A. 


PS 


LIST   OF   ILLUSTRATIONS. 


PAGE 

A  LOST  HERO Frontispiece 

THE  EXPRESS  FROM  COLUMBIA 11 

THE  ENTERPRISE  OF  THE  SUMMERVILLE  MER  • 

CHANT 12 

IN    THE    GROUP   AT  THE   STATION   STOOD   A 

WHITE  BOY 13 

THE  BOY  TESTED  THE  HALTER,  AND  PATTED 

THE  HORSE 15 

STRAY  GOATS  AND  MULES  GAZED  EXPECTANTLY  17 

AN  OLD  NEGRO  CAME  UP    ........  19 

HE  PLODDED  SLOWLY  UP  THE  TRACK      ...  21 

SNAPPED  HIS  HALTER,  AND  BROKE  AWAY    .    .  23 
HE  GOT  DOWN  ON  HIS  HANDS  AND  KNEES  AND 

CRAWLED 24 

BIRDS  SEEMED  TO  SING  THROUGH  THE  AlR       .  25 

HAD  THE  END  OF  THE  WORLD  COME?    ...  27 

THEY  RAN 31 

THE  PAUPER  DOG 32 

THEY  WERE  ONLY  Cows 33 


8  List  of  Illustrations. 

PAGE 

RUN  FOR  'x !  RUN  ! 37 

AS  THEY  CAME  ABREAST  OF  THE  SECOND  LITTLE 

STATION 41 

I  SOLE  FOR  Two  THOUSAND  DOLLARS  ONCT  .  43 

THE  RAGGED  OLD  ARM  THAT  FELLED  IT  DOWN  45 
THE  LITTLE  ONE  CLIMBED  LIKE  A  MONKEY 

UPON  A  SHELF 47 

THE  OLD  MAN  SEIZED  THE  TORPEDOES  ...  48 

THIS  COMFORTED  THE  LAD  INCREDIBLY  ...  49 

"  I  STUMP  YE  ! " 53 

THE  STRONG,  BLACK  FlST  WAS  CLINCHED  .  .  55 

HE  LAID  ONE  TORPEDO  ON  EACH  RAIL  ...  57 

PAPA!  PAPA!  62 

A  LITTLE  HUDDLING  FIGURE  .  , 63 

THE  LOCALITY  WHERE  THE  TRAIN  STOOD  WAS 

EXAMINED  THOROUGHLY  67 

HAD  THE  CURIOSITY  TO  PICK  UP  THE  RAGS  .  72 

FINIS 74 


NOTE. 

'"PHE  materials  of  heroism  are  every- 
where ;  each  day  and  all  situations 
are  full  of  them.  The  power  to  recog- 
nize them  and  the  will  to  use  them 
make  the  hero.  He  who  saves  life, 
no  matter  how  obscure,  how  poor,  how 
ignorant  he  may  be,  has  a  value  which 
can  never  belong  to  the  spiller  of  blood; 
and  the  crimson  glories  of  war  fade 
before  the  white  honors  of  peace. 

This  little  story,  which  was  originally 
contributed  to  the  "  Youth's  Companion," 
has  sought  to  teach  the  young  people 
of  America  something  of  the  grandeur 
which  waits  upon  a  brave  deed,  and 
something  of  the  beauty  of  supreme 
self-sacrifice. 

E.  S.  P.  W. 
H.  D.  W. 


A  LOST    HERO. 


HPHE  express  from  Columbia  was  due. 
It  was  almost  nine  o'clock  on  Tues- 
day night,  the  3ist  of  August,  1886.  It 
had  been  a  hot  day,  sultry  toward  night, 
and  the  loungers  at  the  Summerville 
station  were  divided  between  pitying 
and  envying  their  neighbors  on  the  ex- 
cursion train.  In  such  weather,  home 
seems  either  the  most  intolerable  or  the 
most  comfortable  place  in  the  world. 


12 


A  Lost  Hero. 


It  had  not  rained   for   six    weeks,   and 
South  Carolina  panted. 

There  was  a  larger  crowd 
than  usual  at  the  little  sta- 
tion to  see  the  Columbia 
excursionists  come  in.  The 
enterprise  of  the  Summer- 
ville  merchant  who  pla- 
carded the  pine-trees  of  this 
forest  village  with  legends 
to  the  effect  that  his  ice- 
cream would  be  found  "  Opp. 
the  depot,"  was  well  rewarded 
that  scorching  night.  The 
streets  thronged  —  if  Sum- 
merville  streets  can  ever  be 
said  to  throng  —  with  warm 
and  thirsty  loungers  of  both  sexes  and 
of  every  color.  South  Carolinians 
though  they  were,  they  objected  to  the 
heat  of  that  day. 


A  Lost  Hero. 


In   the  group   at    the   station    stood 
a  white  boy,  about  ten  years  old,  —  a 
neatly  dressed,  well-behaved   little  fel- 
low,   with    an    expression   of   crushing 
and  delightful 
responsibility. 
He  wandered 


•** 


'IN   THE   GROUP   AT   THE   STATION    STOOD   A   WHITE   BOY. 


14  A  Lost  Hero. 

back  and  forth  restlessly  and  proudly 
from  the  track  to  a  tree  in  the  square, 
where  an  old  horse  and  wagon  were 
fastened  with  unnecessary  security. 
The  boy  tested  the  halter,  and  patted 
the  horse  continually. 

It  was  a  very  important  thing  to  drive 
two  miles  in  the  dark  for  one's  father 
and  bring  him  home  from  the  nine 
o'clock  express.  Add  to  this  situation 
the  excitement  of  an  excursion,  and 
Donny  de  Mone  felt  that  life  lacked 
nothing  more  to  the  position  and  the 
dignity  of  manhood.  Besides,  Donny 
was  very  fond  of  his  father,  and  had  not 
seen  him  for  two  weeks. 

Now,  there  was  one  curious  thing 
about  this  crowd  which  would  have 
been  noticeable  to  a  stranger,  but  had 
not  as  yet  attracted  the  attention  of  the 


'THE  BOY  TESTED  THE  HALTER,  AND  PATTED  THE  HORSE." 


A  Lost  Hero. 


JT; 


residents.  This  was  the  extraordinary 
number  of  animals  that  seemed  to  be 
waiting  for  this  train.  One  would 
have  thought  that  half  the  dogs  in  the 
neighborhood  had  relatives  coming  from 


I 


'STRAY  GOATS  AND  MULE 


Columbia. 

Stray  goats  and  mules  gazed 
expectantly    up    and    down    the 
track.     Cats  had  followed 
their     owners    from    the 
houses  and  betrayed  their 
devotion  by  subdued 
squeals  from   under 
their     masters'     re- 
gardless   heels.      A 
brindle-brown     pig 
wriggled      its      way 
among    the    crowd, 
grunting   with    per- 
sistent    uneasiness ; 


GAZED  EXPECTANTLY.' 


1 8  A   Lost  Hero. 

while  a  couple  of  wandering  cows,  un- 
molested by  the  strangely  restless  dogs, 
passed  and  repassed  the  railroad  cross- 
ing, bellowing  monotonously.  The 
horses  at  the  station  exhibited  curious 
discomfort ;  and  Donny  de  Mone's 
venerable  nag  "  Ben  Bow "  astonished 
the  community  by  pulling  at  his 
halter. 

While  the  boy  stood  valiantly  holding 
the  bridle,  an  old  Negro  came  up  and 
pulled  his  sleeve.  He  was  a  shabby  old 
Negro.  His  lean  knees  protruded 
through  his  trousers,  —  a  mass  of 
patches  from  under  which  the  original 
material,  like  the  jackknife  in  the  mental 
philosophy  problem,  had  wholly  disap- 
peared. It  was  especially  noticeable 
that  tufts  of  white  hair  found  their  way 
through  the  holes  in  his  coon-skin  cap. 


A.  Lost  Hero.  19 

Across  his  shoulder  he  carried  a  bun- 
dle knotted  into  an  old  red  handker- 
chief with  a  polka  spot. 

"Say,    boss,  cud    ye  tell   me  whar  a 


"AN    OLD    NEGRO   CAME    UP. 


20  A  Lost  Hero. 

poah  niggah  cud  fine  a  bit  o'  kivered 
hay  to  sleep  on,  an'  a  moufful  o'  pone 
in  de  mauhnin  ?  I'se  footed  it  clean 
from  Charleston.  I'se  gwine  to  Branch- 
ville  whar  my  dahter,  Juno  Soo,  is  a 
dyin'  ob  fever.  She  ain't  long  foh  dis 
wohl.  I'se  got  money  'nuff  foh  de 
breffust." 

He  looked  wistfully  at  the  lad. 
Donny  answered  with  the  heartiness  of 
a  child  who  has  been  brought  up  to 
think  of  others. 

"  My  father  will  tell  you  when  he 
comes  in.  I  expect  him  every  minute. 
But  why  don't  you  go  to  Kittie's." 
He  mentioned  the  name  of  a  woman 
well  known  in  Summerville  for  strong 
character  and  wise  benevolence.  "  She 
lives  up  the  track  there.  Anybody  will 
show  you.  She  '11  help  you ;  she  's  the 
best  colored  woman  in  town." 


A  Lost  Hero. 


21 


The  old  man  turned  away  without 
answering.  Perhaps  he  thought  this 
a  pleasant  device  on  the  boy's  part  to 


W%^ 

mm 


I 


'HE   PLODDED    SLOWLY   UP   THE  TRACK. 


22  A  Lost  Hero. 

get  rid  of  him.  Perhaps  he  meant  to 
follow  his  counsel.  Who  can  say  ?  He 
plodded  slowly  up  the  track  and  dis- 
appeared in  the  darkness. 


A  Lost  Hero. 


I. 

OW,    while    Donny    stood    holding 
Ben    Bow  by   the   bridle,  the  old 
horse  reared,  plunged  violently,  snapped 
his  halter,  and 
broke     away. 


"SNAPPED  HIS  HALTER  AND  BROKE  AWAY.'' 

The  boy,  at  the  same  instant,  was  hurled 
to  the  ground      The   ringing   of   hoofs 


A  Lost  Hero. 


and  whir  of  wheels  made  strange  sensa- 
tions in  his  ears.  He  thought  what  a 
fool  he  was  to  be  knocked  down  by  old 
Ben  Bow. 

Then  he  tottered  to  his  feet.     Com- 
plete darkness  had   come.     There  was 
an   unearthly 
silence.      Then 
a    moan,    then 
a    howl    and    a 
shriek    arose 
which     reached 
from    group    to 
group,      from 
house  to  house, 
Human     and 
one    piteous 


'HE  GOT   DOWN    ON    HIS   HANDS   AND 
KNEES   AND   CRAWLED." 


from    square    to    forest, 
animal    cries    blended    in 
appeal  for  mercy. 

Again  the  unknown  power  smote  the 
lad    to  the    earth,   which   had    become 


A  Lost  Hero. 


BIRDS     SEEMED     TO     SING     THROUGH 
THE   AIR." 


a  raging  sea.  It  rocked  —  it  rolled. 
Terrified,  the  child  no  longer  attempted 
to  stand.  He  got  down  on  his  hands 
and  knees  and  crawled. 

The  trees  whistled  overhead.     Flocks 
of  birds  seemed  to  sing  through  the  air, 


26  A  Lost  Hero. 

striking  against  the  telegraph  wires. 
The  atmosphere,  which  but  a  few  mo- 
ments ago  reeked  with  heat,  took  on  a 
grave-like  chill.  Again  the  earth  heaved 
and  swayed  beneath  the  frightened 
youngster,  who  fell  upon  his  face,  vainly 
clawing  the  ground  for  the  support 
which  it  denied  him. 

The  station  was  only  twenty  yards 
away.  There,  all  the  people  were  in  a 
turmoil.  While  endeavoring  to  regain 
their  feet,  some  were  violently  thrown 
upon  the  wooden  platform.  Others, 
holding  to  the  side  of  the  building,  felt 
with  stupefaction  the  boards  totter  be- 
neath their  touch.  Was  judgment  at 
hand  ?  Had  the  end  of  the  world  come? 
The  terror  of  a  nameless  danger  unman- 
ned the  stoutest  heart.  Women  shrieked 
and  prayed.  Men  cursed  and  groaned. 


HAD   THE    END   OF  THE  WORLD   COME?" 


A  Lost  Hero.  29 

Donny  had  now  joined  the  stricken 
group.  They  huddled  together  until 
another  shock  threw  them  one  upon 
another.  Delicate  women  became  nau- 
seated as  if  in  mid-ocean.  Sturdy  men 
who  had  faced  bullets  in  the  Civil  War 
without  wincing,  lost  self-control.  They 
surged;  they  fought;  they  comforted 
each  other ;  they  cried  aloud. 

At  this  moment  a  frightful  tremor 
shook  the  earth.  The  station  building 
gave  sickening  creaks ;  then  it  toppled 
with  a  crash. 

Yell  now  followed  yell.  The  crowd, 
that  but  now  waited  the  joyous  greet- 
ings of  friends,  was  battered  by  the 
bruises  of  the  earth  and  hurried  by 
fright  into  a  contagious  state  of  mania. 
The  bodies  and  faces  of  the  people 
changed  almost  beyond  recognition. 


30  A  Lost  Hero. 

Maddened  with  fear,  stunned  by  the  last 
concussion,  they  stampeded. 

The  cry  rang  from  mouth  to  mouth : 
"  To  the  woods  !  To  the  hill !  Home ! 
Home ! !  Home  ! ! ! "  They  swayed  ; 
they  rushed;  they  parted;  they  ran. 
Struck  as  by  an  invisible  enemy,  they 
fell  prostrate  in  the  powdery  dust. 
They  picked  themselves  up  again  and 
panted  in  their  flight.  A  voice  close  to 
Donny's  side  rang  above  the  uproar : 
"  Good  Lord  !  //  is  an  earthquake  !  " 

Like  birds  before  a  tornado,  the  peo- 
ple scattered  to  the  right,  to  the  left,  — 
this  way,  that,  and  were  gone.  Donny 
found  himself,  dazed  and  alone,  upon 
the  cross-ties,  groping  toward  the  on- 
coming train.  He  thrust  out  his  hands 
and  stood  a  moment  piteously  crying, 
"  Papa  !  Papa !  "  the  most  bewildered 


A  Lost  Hero. 


little     fellow     in     all     that     frightened 
town. 

To  crawl  up  the  track,  to  meet  the 
train,  to  board    her,  to    shriek    at   her, 


to   get   to   his 
father,  to  cling 
to     the     cow- 
catcher,   perhaps, 
till    the   engineer 
stopped  for  sheer 


A  Lost  Hero. 


mercy,  —  this  was  the  nearest  approach 
to  a  purpose  that  the  child   had,  as  he 
beat  along  the  track, 
stumbling,     falling, 
up    again,    down 
again,     shaken     by 
the    rolling     earth, 
and     blinded    by 
darkness   more   aw- 
ful than  he  had  ever 
seen  or  thought  of. 
A    strange,    thin 
dog,  without  a  col-    j 
lar,   whined    at    his    \ 
feet   as   he    pushed 
on,   and    licked    his 
hand   and   followed 

him     like     his     Own.  -THE  PAUPER  DOG.' 

Huge,  dim  forms  rushed  alongside  the 
embankment,  making  unearthly  sounds. 


'THEY  WERE  ONLY  COWS." 


A  Lost  Hero.  35 

Dragons  could  not  have  seemed  more 
dreadful ;  but  they  were  only  cows. 
Huge  pine-trees  bent  to  the  earth  with 
rapid,  vibratory  motion  as  if  a  giant's 
hand  clutched  and  shook  them  by  the 
roots. 

All  the  time  the  awful  rumbling  of 
the  earth  went  on ;  it  sounded  as  if  the 
world  were  turning  herself  over,  and 
thrashing  to  and  fro  in  a  fit  of  anger; 
before  every  convulsion  she  uttered  a 
roar  which  seemed  as  if  it  came  from  a 
metal  ball  bowled  along  a  giant  alley 
beneath.  It  reached  its  climax  by  trill- 
ing the  letter  R-r-r-r-r !  in  a  mighty 
voice.  Then  came  the  shock. 

Suddenly,  as  the  child  was  making 
his  way  through  the  horror  and  desola- 
tion of  this  scene,  he  felt  himself  clasped 
in  the  outstretched  arms  of  a  figure 


36  A  Lost  Hero. 

hurrying  from  the  opposite  direction. 
The  two  came  together  in  the  dark 
with  a  jolt,  and  recoiled. 

"  Goramercy ! "  said  a  quavering  voice. 
It  was  the  speech  of  the  old  Negro  track- 
walker, taking  two  days  to  get  to  his 
dying  daughter  because  he  could  not 
afford  the  railroad  ticket  that  would 
have  brought  him  to  her  in  two  hours. 
Donny  recognized  the  high,  cracked, 
pathetic  tones  which  had  addressed  him 
at  the  station. 

"  De  track  's  busted !  "  panted  the 
Negro.  "  De  rails  is  done  gone  twist 
wid  de  shakes.  Dey  lays  like  er  heap 
ob  corn-shuck  in  de  win'  up  yander. 
Dat  ar  train  don'  know  hit,  an'  she  '11 
go  to  Day  ob  Jedgment,  an'  ebery  soul 
aboard  ob  her !  I'se  run  like  de  nation 
fer  to  warn  de  town ! " 


'  RUN   FOR  'T  !      RUN  !  " 


A  Lost  Hero.  39 

"  Oh,  there  is  n't  any  town  to  warn  !  " 
cried  Donny.  "  It 's  all  run  off  !  There 
is  n't  anything  left  but  the  earthquake 
and  me  —  and  this  pup  —  and  nobody 
to  do  anything — and  my  papa  's  aboard 
that  train !  Oh,  what  shall  we  do  ? 
What  shall  we  do  ?  " 

"  Run,  honey,  run ! "  said  the  old 
man,  more  hopefully.  "  Mebbe  we  '11 
head  her  off  some  ways  or  'nuther. 
Run  for't!  Run!" 

The  dirty  old  black  hand  clasped  the 
tender  little  white  one,  which  nestled 
into  it  gratefully.  What  it  meant  at 
that  awful  time  not  to  be  alone, — to 
feel  a  human  touch,  to  know  that  a 
human  heart  beat  beside  you,  —  one 
would  have  to  be  in  the  child's  place 
to  understand. 


A  Lost  Hero. 


II. 


T^HE  two   ran,  plunging  up  the  dis- 

torted    track    which    swelled    and 

shook  beneath  them,   toward  the  com- 


SECOND   LITTLE   STATION. 


ing  train.     As  they  came  abreast  of  the 
second    little    station,    known    as    the 


42  A  Lost  Hero. 

West  End  station  of  Summerville,  an 
idea  shot  like  hope  itself  through  the 
confused  brain  of  the  hurrying  boy. 

"  I  know  where  the  torpedoes  are ! " 
he  cried,  shrilly.  "  The  torpedoes  they 
put  down  to  stop  trains !  I  Ve  seen 
'em.  I  play  with  the  superintendent's 
boys  sometimes.  If  I  was  bigger  I 
could  bu'st  open  the  doors  and  win- 
dows and  find  'em." 

"  Fse  an  ole  man,"  shouted  the  Negro, 
"  but  I'se  been  a  tough  one  befo'  Free- 
dom. I  sole  for  two  thousand  dollars 
onct.  I  kin  smash  'most  anythin'  yer 
give  me,  honey,  if  hi'm  put  to 't.  If 
der  's  anythin'  wan  tin'  to  be  bu'sted  to 
stop  dat  ar  train,  I  reckon  I  kin  bu'st." 

Whirling  along,  in  the  dark  and  the 
uproar,  the  two  panting  figures  rushed 
against  the  little  station.  It  was  very 


1 1 


- 


SOLE   FOR  TWO   THOUSAND   DOLLARS   ONCT." 


A  Lost  Hero. 


45 


dark.  In  a  lull  of  the  raging  earth  the 
distant  whistle  of  the  train  could  be 
distinctly  heard. 


'THE  RAGGED  OLD  ARM  THAT  FELLED  IT  DOWN.' 


46  A  Lost  Hero. 

"  In  there  !  "  cried  the  boy.  "  There ! 
There!  Oh,  don't  you  think  perhaps 
my  papa  took  some  other  train  ?  Oh, 
she 's  coming  !  I  '11  help.  I  can  help. 
Oh,  the  door  's  too  big  for  me ! " 

But  not  too  big  for  the  ragged  old 
arm  that  felled  it  down  as  an  axe  fells 
the  last  rings  of  a  stricken  tree.  Not 
too  big  for  the  remnant  of  strength  in 
the  once  muscular  slave.  Not  too  big 
for  the  fiery  old  heart  that  trouble  and 
toil  and  hunger  and  loneliness  had 
never  quenched. 

The  door  went  down  —  glass  crashed 
—  another  door  yielded  —  two  wild  fig- 
ures fell  into  the  superintendent's  pri- 
vate office.  The  little  one  climbed  like 
a  monkey  upon  a  shelf  he  knew  of,  and 
then  the  two  rushed  out  of  the  rocking 
building  into  the  resounding  air,  on 


A  Lost  Hero. 


47 


which  human  shrieks  smote  steadily,  as 
it  was  said  they  did  all  that  awful  night 
Again,  the  whistle 
of  the  train  —  near 
now — nearer  — 

As  the  pathetic 
couple  ran  up  the 
torn  and  twisted 
track,  Donny  began 
to  sob  aloud ;  but 
all  he  said  was, 
"Papa!  Papa! 
Papa ! " 

"  Gib  'em  to  me, 
sonny,"  said  the 
Negro,  with  the  au- 
thority of  age  and 
danger.  "I  kin  run 
f aster 'n  you,  honey! 

Goramercy,  dar  she 

i " 
am  ! 


'THE  LITTLE  ONE  CLIMBED  LIKE  A  MONKEY 

UPON   A   SHELF." 


48 


A  Lost  Hero. 


The  old  man  seized  the  torpedoes, 
and  rushing  away  with  them,  vanished 
in  the  darkness.  The  unknown,  collar- 


"THE  OLD  MAN  SEIZED  THE  TORPEDOES." 

less  dog  followed  him.    Donny,  sobbing 
and  calling  his  father's  name,  pushed  on 


A  Lost  Hero. 


49 


as  well  as  he  could  by  himself.     As  he 
ran  he  tried  to  say  his  prayers,  but  all 


A 


"THIS   COMFORTED  THE  LAD   INCREDIBLY." 

he  could  remember  was,  "  Our  Father 
who  art  in  heaven." 

Then   he   thought,  how  soon   might 
his  father  on  earth  be  father  in  heaven, 


50  A  Lost  Hero. 

too?  He  could  not  say  that  prayer. 
The  boy,  like  many  an  older  and  wiser 
than  Donny,  only  cried  instead  of  pray- 
ing. As  he  ran  along  in  this  sad 
fashion,  something  hit  against  him, 
whinnying  in  the  dark.  It  was  Ben 
Bow,  the  horse  he  had  ridden  ever  since 
he  was  a  baby.  Now,  this  comforted 
the  lad  incredibly,  to  have  one  of  the 
family  with  him. 


A  Lost  Hero.  51 


III. 

'"THE  old  man  and  the  train  were  now 
•*•  face  to  face.  The  locomotive  came 
cautiously,  for  the  shocks  had  pene- 
trated far  up  the  road,  but  too  fast  — 
far  too  fast.  Where  the  track  had 
gone  to  pieces,  a  mass  of  twisted  rails 
and  tossing  sleepers  and  furrowed 
earth,  a  bank  —  what  is  called  a  high 
bank  in  Southern  topography  —  raised 
itself  just  in  the  turn  of  time  to 
have  sent  the  derailed  train  plunging 
down. 

The  old  Negro  watched  the  approach- 
ing flare  of  the  head-light  as  he  ran  on, 
with  a  grim,  defiant  eye. 


52  A  Lost  Hero. 

"  I  stump  ye  !  "  he  said  aloud.  He 
shook  his  trembling,  black  fist  at  the 
locomotive.  Stumbling  along,  his  old 
bundle  over  one  shoulder,  and  the  tor- 
pedoes clutched  in  the  other  arm,  being 
thus  encumbered  —  for  it  did  not  occur 
to  him  that  he  could  throw  away  his 
bundle,  he  was  so  poor — he  tripped  and 
fell.  His  foot  caught ;  it  is  unknown 
in  what,  —  in  a  twisted  tie,  or  perhaps 
in  a  crevice  of  the  cracking  earth. 

When  he  tried  to  rise,  something 
held  the  hero  down.  He  reached  his 
whole  length  forward  flat  upon  the 
road-bed,  and  with  great  precision  and 
with  a  coolness  that  one  cannot  think 
of  now  without  emotion,  he  laid  one 
torpedo  on  each  rail,  exactly  where  it 
needs  must  lie  to  give  the  warning 
through  the  crushing  wheel. 


I    STUMP   YE!  " 


A  Lost  Hero. 


55 


Now  for  the  second  time  the  old  man 
and  the  locomotive  regarded  each  other. 
Her  fiery  breath  was  close  upon  him. 


"THE  STRONG,    BLACK   FIST   WAS   CLINCHED.' 

Above  the  uproar  of  the  reeling  earth 
the  shriek  of  the  train  sounded  in  his 


56  A  Lost  Hero. 

deafened  ears.  Once  again,  the  strong, 
black  fist  was  clinched  in  the  approach- 
ing monster's  face. 

"  I  dare  ye !  "  he  cried.  "  Come  on  ! 
I  dare  ye !  "  He  pulled  himself  up  with 
a  mighty  wrench.  But  the  unknown 
power  held  him.  He  felt  the  claws  of 
the  cow-catcher.  He  gave  one  low  cry: 

"  Lord,  I  'd  like  to  got  dar  an'  seen 
Juno  Soo  afore  she  died  — " 

Then  he  closed  his  eyes,  that  he 
might  not  see  what  would  happen, 
clasped  his  hands  above  his  gray  head, 
and  gave  his  manly  soul  to  God. 


HE   LAID   ONE  TORPEDO    ON    EACH    RAIL.' 


A  Lost  Hero.  59 


IV. 

HPHE  anxious  and  bewildered  passen- 
gers heard  the  snap !  snap !  of  the 
torpedoes,  and  half  of  them  rushed  to 
the  platforms.  The  engineer  signalled 
"  Down  brakes ! "  and  the  train,  with  a 
mighty  jolt,  came  to  a  stop.  A  heavy 
shock  shook  the  night  at  that  instant. 
The  smell  of  sulphur  was  strong  in  the 
chilly  air.  The  engineer  got  out  with  a 
lantern.  The  crowd  gathered  in  a  mo- 
ment. At  the  brink  of  the  scattered 
track,  at  the  very  edge  of  wreck  and 
death,  the  train  had  come  to  a  stand. 

"  Who   did   it  ? "   swept   from   lip  to 
lip.     No  one  was  in  sight. 


60  A  Lost  Hero. 

"  I  thought  we  hit  a  man,"  said  the 
engineer,  swinging  his  lantern  far  out 
into  the  darkness.  But  no  sign,  whether 
of  the  dead  or  of  the  living,  was  in 
sight,  —  nothing  except  a  half-starved, 
collarless  dog,  who  sat  stupidly  upon 
the  grass,  and  who  did  not  even  wag  his 
tail  when  the  stoker  spoke  to  him. 

"  Who  saved  us  ?  Who  saved  the 
train  ? " 

Ask  the  disappointed  vulture  and  the 
mouth  of  the  muttering  earth  to  tell 
you,  gentlemen  passengers !  There  is 
no  other  lip  to  answer. 

Yes,  there  is  one ;  a  little,  trembling, 
ashy  lip  —  a  child's  —  scarcely  able  to 
articulate  for  grief  or  terror,  and  pour- 
ing forth  confused  cries  that  nobody  can 
understand.  The  passengers  have  left 


A  Lost  Hero.  61 

the  train,  and  are  making  their  way 
cautiously  homeward  down  the  devas- 
tated road-bed,  where  the  track  had 
lain.  It  is  hurled  now  to  every  point 
of  the  compass  in  the  wild  night. 

They  come  to  a  halt  suddenly,  be- 
fore a  little  huddling  figure,  with  its 
face  hidden  in  its  arms,  crouched  beside 
a  crooked  rail.  An  old  horse,  with 
traces  hanging  and  harness  a  wreck, 
stands  snorting  beside  the  boy. 

"Donny!  Donny!  Why,  my  sonny 
boy ! " 

The  crowd  parts  for  a  thin,  white- 
faced  man,  —  the  passenger  who  had 
been  heard  to  say  upon  the  way,  "  My 
little  son  is  coming  to  meet  me.  I  hope 
these  shocks  do  not  extend  to  the  Sum- 
merville  station." 

There  is  one  other  little  wild  call, 
"  Papa  !  Papa ! "  —  a  tremendous  effort 


62 


A  Lost  Hero. 


to  be  manly,  and  not  cry  before  stran- 
gers —  and    the    boy    melts    into    his 
father's  arms,  and  wonders  whose  tears 
they    are    which 
rain      upon     his 
cuddling   face. 

But  who  saved 
the  train?  Where 
is  he  ?  How  did 
he  do  it?  Who 
took  that  noble 
risk  ?  Where  is 
the  hero  ?  Here  ? 

"You,  my  lad?" 

Then  Donny 
raised  his  awe- 
struck face  from 
his  father's  quick-beating  heart,  and 
standing  among  the  strangers  and  the 
neighbors,  told  the  story,  —  all  that  he 
knew;  all  that  he  could  tell. 


PAPA  !     PAPA ! " 


A   LITTLE    HUDDLING    FIGURE. 


A  Lost  Hero.  65 

"  I  only  remembered  the  torpedoes, 
sir.  The  old  man  did  the  rest." 

"  What  old  man  ?     Where  is  he  ?  " 

"  Why,  the  old  colored  man  !  Have  n't 
you  seen  him  ?  The  old  colored  man 
who  ran  ahead  and  put  them  on  the 
track.  He  saved  the  train." 

The  engineer  took  his  lantern  and 
silently  went  back  and  swung  the  spot 
of  fire  in  the  black,  cold  air.  It  had 
not  rained,  as  we  have  said,  for  many 
weeks,  but  his  feet  splashed  into  deep 
pools  and  running  rivulets,  and  sank 
into  crevices  and  gashes  in  the  trem- 
bling earth. 

A  few  of  the  passengers  followed  the 
engineer.  The  locality  where  the  train 
stood  was  examined  thoroughly.  Again, 
the  same  result, —  no  human  creature, 
dead  or  living,  was  to  be  seen.  The 


66  A  Lost  Hero. 

pauper  dog  sat  just  where  they  had  left 
him.  The  engineer  went  up  and  patted 
him.  At  the  touch  he  fell  over  —  dead 
of  fright. 

They  returned  to  report  what  they 
had  found.  As  they  did  so,  they  called 
and  shouted  into  the  darkness,  seeking 
for  the  brave  life  that  had  saved  their 
own.  Only  the  roar  of  the  earthquake 
answered  them. 

"  But  he  must  be  there !  "  cried  the 
lad,  "of  course  he  's  there.  He  's  a  very 
shabby  old  Negro.  He  is  all  patches 
and  his  knees  and  hair  stick  out.  His 
hat  looked  like  a  coon-skin  hat.  His 
hair  is  gray  hair.  He  carries  a  little 
bundle  on  his  shoulder.  He's  a  very 
strong  old  Negro.  He  smashed  the 
station  in  like  —  like  blocks.  He  was  a 
slave,  and  he  was  so  strong  he  cost  two 


THE     LOCALITY     WHERE     THE     TRAIN     STOOD     WAS 
THOROUGHLY." 


EXAMINED 


A  Lost  Hero.  69 

thousand  dollars.  He 's  going  to  see 
his  daughter  in  Branchville.  She 's  dy- 
ing. He 's  so  poor  he  had  to  walk  from 
Charleston  all  the  way.  He  saved  the 
train.  You  just  look  and  you  '11  find 
him." 

A  mighty  shock  drowned  the  boy's 
words  at  this  moment,  and  seemed  to 
jeer  at  them.  The  people  huddled  to- 
gether, and  looked  into  each  others' 
appalled  faces,  and  no  man  said  a  word. 
Instinctively  they  ranged  themselves 
into  a  mass,  as  if  united  humanity  could 
defy  aroused  and  raging  Nature,  —  then 
broke,  and  ran  for  their  homes,  and 
wives  and  babes,  and  whatever  fate  had 
left  to  them. 


A  Lost  Hero.  71 


V. 


OUT  where  is  the  hero ?  Who  saved 
*~*  the  train?  Summerville,  to  this 
day,  goes  seeking  him,  and  her  search 
is  a  vain  thing.  Will  he  not  break  his 
long,  mysterious  silence?  Will  he  not 
come  forth  to  take  the  blessing  of  the 
grateful  people  ?  An  obscure  old  Negro, 
poor,  hungry,  and  homeless,  will  he  not 
accept  the  proffered  reward  ?  Where 
is  the  hero  ? 

Like  Moses  of  old,  hath  God  buried 
him  ?  The  earth  knows,  which  yawned 
beside  the  track  —  and  closed  again  — 
when  the  crushing  wheels  struck  the 
life  from  the  unknown  savior  of  the 


72  A  Lost  Hero. 

excursion  train.  The  earth  knows ;  but 
she  keeps  her  secret.  Her  awful  lips 
are  dumb. 


'HAD  THE  CURIOSITY  TO  PICK  UP  THE  RAGS.; 


A  Lost  Hero. 


73 


Some  weeks  after  the  shock  of  August 
31,  a  section  hand,  setting  a  sleeper, 
found  an  old  bundle,  soiled  and  wet, 
tied  to  a  stick  and  mouldering  in  the 
ground.  He  opened  it  carelessly,  and 
threw  it  away,  and  hardly  thought  to 
mention  it  to  his  overseer,  who  had  the 
curiosity  to  pick  up  the  rags  and  ex- 
amine them. 

A  handkerchief,  once  red,  with  polka 
spots,  contained  a  ragged  flannel  shirt 
and  a  stocking-heel  tied  with  a  piece  of 
tape.  That  was  all.  This  stocking- 
heel,  evidently  the  wallet  of  some  poor 
traveller,  held  one  silver  piece  of  the 
value  of  ten  cents,  two  coppers,  and 
a  newspaper  clipping,  old  and  faded. 
It  was  a  copy  of  the  Proclamation 
of  Emancipation  to  the  Negro  slaves  of 


74 


A   Lost  Hero. 


America,  beginning,  "  I,  Abraham  Lin- 
coln," and  bearing  date  Eighteen  Hun- 
dred and  Sixty-three. 


